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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144568">to melt me, i only need you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/corrupted_voracity/pseuds/corrupted_voracity'>corrupted_voracity</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Persona 5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, Goro is a morning grump, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Morning Cuddles, This is just pure 2/2 fluff because I don't need the day to be angstier than it already is, Though there's a tiny bit of flashback angst, akeshu - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:27:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,151</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/corrupted_voracity/pseuds/corrupted_voracity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Then Akira leans forward to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. </p>
  <p>And Goro would usually open his eyes and scowl half-heartedly at him, natural instincts at denying affection kicking in like an old clockwork, and Akira would repeat the gesture purely to rile him up because he knows Goro secretly craves and loves attention amidst the absolute dark depravity that is the core of his soul (Goro’s words) and it would usually end up with Goro flipping their positions, intent on getting retaliation with a blush on his face but today is the second of February and Goro’s face merely softens because he knows and remembers, just like Akira does.</p>
</blockquote>On the second of February, Akira and Goro wake up together.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>244</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>to melt me, i only need you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>On the hunt for the opposite of angst in midst the thunderous ocean that is 2/2?</p><p>Search no more, dear stranger.</p><p>Thank you <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLotus/pseuds/LovelyLotus">Lolo</a> for giving this a once over and letting me use your wonderful idea of switch-spooning. You're the absolute best ♥ </p><p>Their occupation and location are deliberately kept vague!</p><p>
  <em>idea and title taken from Sun &amp; Rain by TVXQ</em>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p>Akira wakes up in a cocoon of warmth. </p><p> </p><p>Thoughts come impossibly slow, tethering together from their vastly strayed positions. Though while his mind is still in the process of collecting itself, his body doesn’t need to think. </p><p>It  merely reacts, and Akira’s hand automatically reaches for the one loosely wrapped around him. An instinct that comes as natural as breathing to him. </p><p>He knows Goro’s awake because the moment Akira’s palm tentatively meets with the back of Goro’s hand, the other fills the empty space between their fingers by interlacing them so that it matches the braid of their legs. </p><p>A low rumble goes through the chest pressed up against him. Silver clinks playfully, and Akira loosely smiles, brings their hands to his mouth to kiss Goro’s knuckles first, then the graceful arch of his fingers. </p><p>Slightly longer than his, relentless, hardworking, <em> beautiful.  </em></p><p>Goro doesn’t tease him with the usual <em>sap. </em>He merely tightens his hold and noses along Akira’s curls. </p><p>“Stay,” Goro hoarsely croaks from the depths of hell that are his vocal chords in the early morning.</p><p>Fondness floods Akira, warming him like the few rays of sunshine filtered through the window shades do. He complies for the moment, enjoying the muddy warmth they’re both encased in from head to toe. </p><p>The small isle in the middle of a lake, unaffected by ripples of any kind. </p><p>It’s easy to get lost in this, to forget the semblance of time and importance when they’re secured in each other’s hold. But a sliver of restlessness has prevailed from the moment Akira woke up, and it takes hold of him, chases some of the heaviness in his limbs away that sink his body far deeper into the mattress than it usually does.   </p><p>Restlessness to make sure that the morning starts off well, that nothing will go wrong, that all conditions are perfect. </p><p>Akira wrestles with Goro’s embrace until he’s able to turn. </p><p>Just like his searching hands, the smile blooming on Akira’s lips is an autonomous reaction at seeing Goro’s bare face, stripped from any layer of responsibility or complicated thoughts it likes to get lost in. </p><p>These expressions of human vulnerability are rare, <em>especially</em> for Goro, so he blinks like the shutter of a camera going off and adds another small picture to the endlessly growing collection he holds in his heart. </p><p>Then Akira leans forward to press a kiss to his husband’s forehead. </p><p>And Goro would usually open his eyes and scowl half-heartedly at him, natural instincts at denying affection kicking in like an old clockwork, and Akira would repeat the gesture purely to rile him up because he knows Goro secretly craves and loves attention amidst the absolute dark depravity that is the core of his soul (Goro’s words) and it would usually end up with Goro flipping their positions, intent on getting retaliation with a <em>blush </em>on his face but today is the second of February and Goro’s face merely <em>softens</em> because he knows and remembers, just like Akira does. </p><p>Pieces falling together, the trickle of warm rain in spring.</p><p>“I’m here,” Akira murmurs, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes. “Here in our apartment, here in our bed, here with you.”</p><p>
  <em> You with me.  </em>
</p><p>Akira’s fingers slip under their duvet to sneak around Goro’s shoulder. Briefly he brushes across the smooth expanse before he slithers down to Goro’s throat, carefully wrapping around one half in the softest of embraces. </p><p>Goro’s pulse is steady, unwavering. Strong.</p><p>A melody that transcends. </p><p>“I will stand up, but I won’t leave, “ Akira tenderly continues. “I’ll merely be in the next room. Is that alright?”</p><p>Goro makes an unintelligible sound that causes his eyebrows to furrow and shut eyelashes to flutter. He pulls Akira closer, but loosen his grasp after a few seconds and Akira chuckles at the indirect permission he’s being granted.</p><p>Akira wouldn’t even have thought about leaving the bed in the first place if it weren’t for Goro skipping dinner yesterday. </p><p>His husband has never been good at taking care of himself - neither had the time nor intention to outside of what would bring him the most favorable reactions when it came to first impressions. </p><p>So Akira does it for him, loves sending the other off with cute bentos and greeting him with warm dinner and an even warmer smile which Goro would return with a small uplift of the corner of his mouth. </p><p>But last evening Akira’s boss just didn’t let him go and then there was this near fight in his line in the supermarket over the wrong price for seasonal fish when he simply wanted to re-stock some ingredients for Goro’s favorite dinner today and by the time he’d gotten home he discovered that Goro lived through half a crisis on his job as well, and they both just barely managed to brush their teeth and get out of their clothes to fall into bed as one entangled mess. </p><p>Though the tiredness let him get away with being the big spoon for the night. He wrapped himself around Goro as best as the small, but somehow significant difference in the sizes of their bodies allowed him to. </p><p>Felt the reassuring weight in his arms, submerged himself in Goro’s smell and inexorable presence that grounds Akira like nothing else in the world does.</p><p>He did wake up as a small spoon though, which is admittedly the expected outcome for all of the days where Goro indulges Akira in letting him be the big spoon. </p><p>As soon as he’s standing on wobbly, still asleep legs, Akira puts on the first shirt he sees - it’s Goro’s limited edition Featherman pajama shirt he clearly managed to undress mid sleep. His husband always has a talent for weird, nocturnal habits, their spoon flipping being the most primary example<em> ("Akira, you’re smaller than me. That’s a natural reaction.”), </em>and doesn’t bother with pants because he really only plans to leave Goro for as long as necessary.  </p><p>Parting always aches, even if it’s temporary and <em> small.  </em></p><p>But Akira’s already made up his mind - he’ll bring breakfast and coffee to bed so that they have something in their stomach, and then they could laze in the unique warmth blankets and embraces only morning brings for however long they want. </p><p>The air is a little chilling, but it’s lost the moment he sees the small, monochrome kitchen full of small trinkets. Mostly from Akira because he’s an impulse buyer and tiny, especially handmade things are his weakness, much to Goro’s chagrin when they’re on vacation and has to carry bags full of Akira’s <em> souvenirs. </em>His husband has yet to voice an actual complaint, though.</p><p>Akira puts on the apron Sojiro gave him for convenience purposes and not as a sentimental parting gift when he left Yongen Jaya to move in with Goro and rummages through the fridge to start working on a simple omelet. </p><p>While Goro’s considerably warmed up to the thought of pancakes after the entire slipping up ordeal, Akira can still only do them for the summer quartal of the year. </p><p>Something about <em> being able to stomach it the best </em>during that time. </p><p>Akira starts to hum. It’s a soft, mellow sound that fills what space is left quiet between the sounds of chopping and mixing and stirring. </p><p>He makes sure it’s loud enough for Goro to hear, and idly wonders if the other recognizes the official Feathermen ED for the second season. </p><p>He’s managed to stir the eggs and add some mindless seasoning when two arms wrap around him. Goro’s always been physically quiet, knows exactly what tiles to avoid by instinct to not scare even a mouse. It’s an assassin trait that prevailed, and one Goro doesn’t hesitate to use to his advantage.</p><p>Such as situations like these, catching Akira off guard by embracing him from behind. Not unlike how they woke up in the morning. </p><p>A heavy weight settles against his back next and Akira shifts his hum into a greeting noise, unable to be angry about the fact he nearly sent the pan flying in surprise. </p><p>Goro’s stealth skills are still something he has to get used to. </p><p>Quickly throwing the leek and paprika (always green because Goro belongs to the rare human species which prefers the darker color over the ripe red one) into the mix of eggs into the pan, Akira turns his head to give Goro a kiss that’ll most likely resemble a mush of lips given Goro’s inability to function properly in the morning.</p><p>Not that Akira’s much better; his body is merely working on autopilot. </p><p>But Akira’s only greeted with a crown of fluffy, caramel hair instead and huffs fondly when it doesn’t budge. </p><p>He turns the attention back to the stove and lets Goro bury himself even further into his neck, as if he can hide all of his body into that small space if he simply tries hard enough. </p><p>The thought is endearing. </p><p>“Don’t care ‘bout breakfast,” Goro drawls against his nape. “Bed.” Followed by a sound that Goro would forever deny being needy. “Now.”</p><p>Akira laughs, leaning into his hold. “Then why did you let me go? You should have said so earlier.”</p><p>Because today Akira would even skip breakfast if that means giving Goro what he wants. </p><p>Ahh, should he have stayed nonetheless? But they didn't <em>eat </em>for god knows how many hours and Goro must be hungry and...</p><p>...despite the tightening of arms around his waist, he doesn’t manhandle Akira back into their bedroom like he sometimes does when they wake up together on the weekend and the only place they have to be is around each other. </p><p>Goro stays, leaning against Akira, and the air fluttering against his nape tells him he’s inhaling his scent which causes more sparks of affection to course through him. </p><p><em> Coffee and chocolate with hints of cinnamon, </em>he knows from a drunk Goro. </p><p>“Aren’t you cold?” Akira softly asks, using his free hand to reach behind him. He meets bare skin which means Goro didn’t bother putting on a shirt which means he’s really adamant on getting back to bed again since he can’t stand coldness at all. </p><p>It’s the reason why Goro’s sometimes dressed as a clothes mummy even during cooler summer days.</p><p>Another rumble vibrates along Akira’s fingers, and he pats Goro’s waist once before settling it back onto the counter. </p><p>“You’re warm,” Goro raspily explains. </p><p>…Akira can’t help but blush a little. </p><p>Goro’s always reservedly with compliments outside the bedroom, but casual statements like that which <em> Goro </em> doesn’t perceive as compliments <em>(</em><em><em>“</em>They’re facts, Akira.”) </em>always slip so easily and effortlessly past his lips that Akira doesn’t even catch them immediately most of the time.</p><p>Akira still doesn’t know if Goro’s aware of the power such small sentences like that hold over him. Then again, given how observations and analytic skills belong to Goro just like coffee belongs to Akira, he doubts Goro <em> doesn’t </em>know what he’s doing.</p><p>Akira clears his throat a little. “Five more minutes,” he says, reducing the stove’s heat. The smell of warm breakfast already drifts around them, curling as lazily as Goro’s fingers do. “Is that ok?” </p><p>Goro grunts. “Not a second longer.”</p><p>His husband seals the deal by pressing a feather light kiss to the base of his nape, and Akira proceeds to melt into his embrace.</p><p>Soft hair drags across his cheeks when more lazy, open mouthed kisses are splayed across his neck. Spontaneous, seemingly whimsical impulses with no real intent behind them other than to be close, and warmth unravels in small knots wherever Goro deigns to touch his skin. </p><p>In the end, it does take a little longer than five minutes because Goro’s affections prompt Akira to turn his head on several occasions in hopes of finally catching the other in a lazy drag of lips. </p><p>It’s just easy to lose himself in the mellow atmosphere that surrounds them like soft cotton, fueled by small brushes of skin against skin. It’s a constant effort to fight against the urge to let his eyes flutter shut and simply lean back and <em> enjoy.  </em></p><p>Eventually the omelet is ready though, and the moment Akira turns off the stove and sets he's swept into Goro’s arms. </p><p>Looks like their breakfast is going to be cold.</p><p>“No coffee either?” Akira laughs, interlocking his arms around Goro’s neck for stability. Not that he actually fears of being dropped, no matter how many times Goro brusquely alludes to it. “You didn’t even let me take my apron off.”</p><p>How his husband has the strength to carry him around despite being an utter morning wreck is a secret Goro refuses to share with him, though he knows it’s because while Goro gave up bouldering - there just isn’t a facility like this near their city - he uses the gym instead.</p><p>Akira occasionally joins him when schedules allow for it, but early on he found out that those types of sessions aren’t really good for his sanity. While he’s somewhat acquainted with gym equipment, Akira spends most of the time watching hair and sweat cling to Goro’s body anyway rather than actually getting any training on his own done.</p><p>Though with how Goro tends to crowd him against the locker rooms after their sessions, all flushed and <em> smug, </em> Akira has the inkling suspicion his husband <em> knows </em>what he’s doing each time he drops a seemingly casual offer with a suave tilt of his lips Akira can even see through text. </p><p>Currently, Goro’s expression is still fixed into a small scowl, most likely offended that he has to drag his husband back to bed because Akira doesn’t do it himself.  </p><p>It looks a lot less threatening with the way his hair sticks out a little at random sections. </p><p>Akira can’t help but strain his neck to peck Goro’s cheek in response. Immediately, a pink hue overtakes Goro’s face, and Akira’s heart beats its tiny wings in joy and affection at the accomplishment.  </p><p>Indignation wins the battle of control over Goro’s expression most of the time, but today it’s warm, quiet embarrassment. </p><p>Back in their bedroom, Goro gently lowers him onto the mattress. Akira is quick to slip off his apron, about to lift his shirt as well when Goro’s already slipped under the duvet, pulling Akira close with speed one wouldn’t expect from a grumpy morning person. </p><p>Akira prefers skin to skin contact, but he knows that Goro likes seeing him in his clothes. Not only in general, but today especially - another layer of physical weight aside from his arms.</p><p>Chest to chest and with no means to escape this time, Akira’s able to take in Goro properly to his heart’s content. </p><p>The gentle slope of his nose, soft, slightly chapped lips because Goro doesn’t use as much chapstick anymore. Tired, but molten eyes of autumn colors meeting Akira’s intense gaze, most likely searching just as endlessly as him. </p><p>What does Goro see? His own reflection due to the sunlight peeking through? Akira hopes it manages to display properly how beautiful he finds his husband. Or does Goro see the grey in his eyes he likes to compare to the ashes of a campfire in woods that can hold both a summer’s warmth and a winter’s coldness? </p><p>Then Akira hopes they’re able to convey even a fraction of the affection and love he carries in his heart at all times. </p><p>Akira reaches out to cradle Goro’s cheek in one hand, thumbing over the sharp angles.</p><p>“What?” Goro mumbles, almost annoyed. There’s still the gentlest of blushed spread on his face. It makes the small constellations of freckles lovingly dotting parts of its upper half stand out. </p><p>Akira trails over them, and when he regains his functions to think past Goro’s face again, he shakes his head and offers a crooked smile. </p><p>“Nothing.” </p><p>Clearly Goro isn’t convinced, so Akira scoots forward to press a kiss to the bridge of his husband’s nose to distract him. A gesture that’s met with a hand on his hip and the deepening of a blush. </p><p>“Just glad you’re here,” Akira follows up. </p><p>He knows Goro doesn’t need the extra sentimentality today. But he also hopes the other knows it just slipped out of Akira because he can’t control himself at times.</p><p>Goro huffs, closing his eyes. He’s rubbing small circles into Akira’s hip before he slides his hand higher, resting it in the dip of a waist. </p><p>“You’re way too soft in the morning hours,” Goro sighs. </p><p>“Can’t help it,” Akira laughs. He retracts his hand and lays it across Goro’s bare chest, shortly allowing himself to marvel at the strong, warm expanse of it.</p><p>They’re content, like this. Akira knows that, even as he tucks his head underneath Goro’s chin and feels the other bury his nose in curls of black that are softer than their initial appearance gives away.  </p><p>They bask in each other’s presence, enjoying the warmth that gently seeps into their skin like honey, but Akira still can’t help but feel like there’s something off. </p><p>Like there’s something he can do, but isn’t able to think of. He still feels bad that he left the bed in the first place to make breakfast when Goro clearly wanted him to stay in bed despite his initial lack of protest. </p><p>He should have known better, really. </p><p>So Akira asks into the crook of Goro’s neck, softly, almost meagerly, “Do you need something, Goro? Anything else I can do for you right now?”</p><p>Ever so slowly, Goro pulls back. Like a magnet that doesn’t want to part from its counterpart, yet forces itself to. Goro’s eyes are still hazy with the mellowness of morning, but they’re a bit sharper, fleeting across Akira’s face as if they’re searching for something. </p><p>This time, instead of scowling or huffing or countering with something snarky in spite of Akira’s pure intentions, he smiles a little.</p><p>It’s more like he’s trying to lift one corner of his mouth up despite not having the energy to (which contrasts his earlier actions, really), but it’s so endearing that it momentarily stops the beat of Akira’s heart. </p><p>“I already have everything,” Goro murmurs. </p><p>And Akira doesn’t want to jump to conclusions, be so presumptuous to assume that with everything Goro means him, <em> him </em> only despite the vows they spoke to each other, and yet he <em> looks </em>at him with an earnest fondness like he's the only thing in the world worth looking at and Akira can’t help but burn up from the inside out. </p><p>It started tenderly when he woke up this morning, ignited into something brighter as Goro padded to him in the kitchen, and now it’s positively set ablaze, too much, too bright for the initial, weak contraption it simmered in. </p><p>Akira doesn’t recognize the sound that leaves his throat and he also doesn’t know <em> why </em> he’s so damn embarrassed and Goro just makes it worse by <em> chuckling </em>at him, a low and raspy sound the air carries with more ease than should be allowed.</p><p>“Soft <em> and </em> weak,” Goro says. </p><p>And in spite of the teasing nature of the words, it sounds a little admirative, almost like Goro’s marveling over every emotion that undoubtedly must be racing through Akira’s eyes. </p><p>He's always been able to read Akira like a book most of the time. </p><p>And still caught in the stupor that was a Goro’s confession - not even a <em> love </em>confession, a screeching part of his mind tells him because they’re rare and never fail to reduce his state of mind into a pathetic puddle despite being married for three years already - Akira is being turned back around and slotted against Goro’s chest again. </p><p>His husband shortly entwines their legs to settle one over Akira completely, preventing resistance that might come. </p><p>Akira tries to turn his head. “Goro, what are you-” </p><p>His attempt at speech ends in a slight gasp as fingers trail under his shirt. Softly, gently. Lips meet his neck again, a little more insistently than before, now that Goro’s gained some coherency back. </p><p>Akira’s still hazy from the warmth engulfing him from all around, so his limbs fail to match the speed of his thoughts. “This day is-”</p><p>“About me?” Goro murmurs into his neck, not bothering to hide the rawness of his voice. “I know.” Another kiss.  “Let me have this, Akira.”</p><p>Akira’s instinct to please and be the one to shower Goro in affections moves into the background as he slowly remembers again. </p><p>Because today isn’t like any other day where they banter and love and simply function around the other, isn’t like the whole of December where they need a little more space in order to not dance around the subject, but rather the second of February where despite their hopes and dreams and promises four years ago, they never had the absolute certainty that they’d see each other again. </p><p>Never <em> could </em>have, not with Maruki manipulating them for the sake of his noble delusions. </p><p>Goro isn’t just feeling Akira up. </p><p>He’s touching him with <em> intent </em>. </p><p>Tracing Akira’s skin, memorizing each slope and curve of a body he long knows better than his own. Always has. </p><p>Consciously feeling with his palms for a physical, <em> haptic </em> reminder that Akira’s still there with him, in his clothes and arms, not about to permanently leave Goro for the <em> right </em>reality despite it being the one Goro fought with teeth and nails for, brutally shoving his own feelings aside.</p><p>And in turn, all the brushes and careful patterns Goro draws along his skin, the lightest of physical pressure makes it so blatantly clear to Akira that Goro’s able to do these things in the first place. </p><p>That he’s alive, touching him, loving him. </p><p><em> I spent that time living with the certain knowledge that I’d wouldn’t get to see you again, </em> Goro had told him on their first cruel anniversary, in the sanctuary that was their new home. </p><p>It was the first and only time he’d seen Goro cry. Silently, as if his body was too tired for tremors and sobs, merely pushing out the results of years long of repressed, raw emotions, all for Akira to admire and scoop back up. </p><p>And it was after the desperate embrace that followed from them both that Akira realized while he’d been right about Goro being in pain, suffering with knowledge beyond his control yet <em> again</em>, it was for different reasons. </p><p>What tore Goro’s soul apart wasn’t the aspect of his own death. </p><p>It was the conviction that by the time they’d defeat Maruki and erase his influence all across Japan, Akira would have been dead for Goro, too. </p><p>Irreversibly left in the world of the living, only looking back for the sake of memories. </p><p>
  <em> Maybe not even that.  </em>
</p><p>It’s why Goro kept his distance, adamant on not letting Akira get closer than they already were with all the events thrown at them because the more obtainable their bond had seemed in the promise of a fabricated future, the more it hurt. </p><p>There would have been no late night debates, no showing off at the billiard table, no petty arguments over cups of coffee or darts or phone. </p><p>Nothing. </p><p>An encounter that may have been written in the stars, but whose origin has long died. Only what was left of its explosive birth reached the planes of their existence.</p><p>An ephemeral serendipity. </p><p>One they grasped and <em> seized, </em>despite all the odds stacked against them.</p><p>It’s why Akira needs physical affection more than anything else, always eager to slot their hands together, embrace his husband in any form the other let him, no matter how much Goro would protest at times. </p><p>At the hospital Sae directed him to, he’d held unconscious Goro’s hands and felt his pulse for hours upon hours upon <em> hours </em> until the barest brush against his cheek broke him out of his crying trance after which he could only stare into tired, but wondrous eyes of a Goro Akechi. </p><p><em> “You’re really here.” </em>  </p><p>“I love you,” Goro says, a mere caress of intonations among the solid yarn of affection tying them endlessly together. </p><p>Goro’s hand has long continued its journey of mapping. It pressed against Akira’s side, driving up his ribs, briefly tracing sharp collarbones. Methodically, with not a single urge to rush because they have all the time in the world,  all while his other arm never once loosened the embrace around Akira’s middle. </p><p>Now they’re fingers are back to being laced together, identical rings lined up on Akira’s chest to listen to the steady song of a heartbeat.</p><p>Goro never says it first.</p><p>But because it’s the second of February and the day holds a meaning only they can understand, a splinter of time and fate they carved out with their own hands because their stubborn feelings prevailed over anything else, Goro does.</p><p>And Akira smiles endlessly.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“I love you, too.”</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b>Fuck you 2/2 angst</b>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <a href="https://twitter.com/voraciousTash">My (mostly) Akeshu twitter!</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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